


Louder Than Words

by SlasherFiend



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood Kink, College Student Stiles, Dark Stiles, Domestic Fluff, Drowning, M/M, Manipulative Peter, Murder Husbands, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 22:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12045357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlasherFiend/pseuds/SlasherFiend
Summary: Stiles is in the FBI program, away from Beacon Hills and the supernatural drama, until Peter shows up asking him to go on a hunt. Except it's not a normal hunt, Peter's prey is a wanted criminal. Stiles knows what Peter is up to, but he doesn't turn Peter away when he shows up again. Stiles tries to stay on the moral high ground as Peter just wants to drag him under.





	Louder Than Words

**Author's Note:**

> I blame kashizii for this. Also it's twisted_mind's fault that Peter even has a tattoo in this at all. <3  
> This wasn't supposed to get this long.

The lake was perfect, as the others usually were. The full moon reflected off the water like sunlight through ice.

 

Stiles took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp air. He disrobed, pulling his FBI hoodie over his head and wiggled out of his pants. He slid into the still water with a hiss as the cold water wrapped around his ankles and then sucked up his body till he pushed off the bank and swam out deeper into the lake. Splashing to his left drew his attention and he idly swam over to the other bank. His body was covered in goose pimples but this was exhilarating and he hadn’t missed the final moments.

 

Peter stood thigh deep in the water, eyes glowing neon blue and he had his hands plunged into the dark water.

 

Legs kicked and thrashed, tossing up some droplets.

 

“Any blood?”

 

Peter glanced at Stiles. Red dripped from Peter’s nose and lip.

 

Stiles swam around to Peter’s side, ignoring the frantic grabbing at his leg, his ankle, his hand. He kicked and stood up, the water cascaded down his bare body and he wiped the drying blood from Peter’s cheek. The water rolled and dropped back into the lake by way of his elbow. “Where’s the car?”

 

“By the park entrance.” There was more futile thrashing. Peter growled and pressed his hands down further.

 

Stiles put a cool hand on Peter’s back.

 

Finally the thrashing stopped and Peter stood up. He slowly slid his hands out of the water. He wrapped his arms around Stiles and kissed him.

 

“I didn’t get all the blood.”

 

“It’s fine,” Peter whispered and nuzzled Stiles.

 

Stiles smiled and stood on his tip toes to scent Peter for a second, before he sank into the dirt.

 

Peter picked him up, into his arms and carried him to shore.

 

Peter gathered up Stiles’s clothes, after setting the young man on his feet.

 

Stiles took a second to look around the park, the open grass running away before getting to the trail. A stray rock fell into the lake on the other side, where the hill loomed, trying to gut the moon with its point. “You’d think they’d close the park, what with all the bodies found here in the past few years.” Stiles turned to smirk at Peter.

 

“Unfortunate swimming accidents.” Peter’s grin was dark and full of fangs.

 

They started to walk away.

 

“How many does that make now?” Peter asked after a moment.

 

“Are we counting the summers back home?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“This should be twenty-four. Huh, older than me.”

 

Peter snorted and dragged his claws lightly through Stiles’s hair.

 

They killed periodically, fall and spring in DC and summer in California. They found a lake in a different park to kill in each time and only had three bodies when in DC, so the activity would stop before anyone would panic. They had to really disperse the bodies while in California, go on trips and stay the weekend to kill and then come home. Stiles was always posting selfies at beach resorts on Instagram. Making faces or dragging Peter into the photo. As soon as the camera was off though, he’d stalk their target, a dark glint in his honey gold eyes.

 

Sometimes Stiles wondered how this had happened, had Peter really wanted to convince him?

 

As they walked along, Stiles glanced at Peter, remembering how he had left for DC, started college and a month into the first semester Peter had shown up. Right outside the rented house where Stiles and his roommates lived. Stiles hadn’t been too happy to see Peter, only because he had wormed his way back into Stiles’s life when he had been free of the supernatural dealings of Beacon Hills for a month and was trying to get his new life going. “A month Peter!” Stiles had hissed, glaring at Peter, who had crossed his arms over his chest and seemed bored by Stiles’s outburst.

 

“I didn’t come to drag you away from your studies.”

 

“Then what do you want?”

 

Peter pretended to look at his nails, inspecting some passersbys on the other side of the street instead. “The full moon is coming and I want you to come hunting with me.”

 

“You came all the way here for that? Is there no one in Beacon Hills you could have asked?”

 

Peter turned to him, eyes flashing bright blue for a second. “It’s not a normal hunt. Doesn’t have to be.”

 

“That’s not an answer, why do you always avoid answering my questions?”

 

Peter smiled.

 

Stiles sighed. “You just like getting a rise out of me, don’t you?”

 

“Are you going to think about it? Come with me Stiles.”

 

Stiles shook his head, the lights were turning on along the street, the sun was setting and the sky was turning a dark shade of purple. Bruise purple is what most would describe it as. Stiles liked to think of it as the slow exposure of the abyss, to space, to darker things, a soul shivering black. “I’m not in the mood to chase some poor bastard for your entertainment.” Stiles walked up the steps to the door and fished out his keys.

 

Peter didn’t stop him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Later Stiles had texted Peter, because what had he meant about it didn’t have to be a normal hunt?

 

Peter had showed back up at the house with a simple “I’ll show you.”

 

Stiles had then found himself standing in the cool October air, waiting for Peter at the turn of the park’s jogging path.

 

The trees still provided some shade, if three quarters of their leaves being gone counted as cover.

 

Stiles shivered and rubbed his arms through his hoodie sleeves. Then footsteps pounded on the ground towards him. He saw Peter’s blue eyes first.

 

The guy sprinting towards Stiles was dripping sweat, eyes wide in fear.

 

As he got closer, Stiles’s gut twisted into knots as he realized who it was.

 

A resident pedophile. Not someone the FBI had been looking for, but the local police sure had been interested in finding him.

 

Stiles still listened to police scanners and knew what this guy had been up to. He wasn't going to ask how Peter had found the guy though.

 

Stiles ground his teeth, he knew why Peter had done this, to get him to participate or at least not feel bad for the person dying because at least they weren’t innocent. Well fuck that. Stiles stuck his foot out and the guy tripped, falling flat on his face.

 

He shouted, he didn’t understand why Stiles wasn’t calling the police, why wasn’t he helping? He tried to get up and Peter stepped on the guy’s back, to keep him down, and slashed his throat.

 

Peter snarled and tore off the guy’s penis.

 

“You know they’re not going to believe an animal sought revenge.” Stiles stood uninterested behind Peter. “And you didn’t have to kill him to convince me to come hunt with you.” He turned to walk away.

 

“Then you pick next time.” Peter bent to inspect his kill some more. He stabbed his claws into the man’s back.

 

“No thanks. And if you land your furry butt in jail, I’m not helping.” Stiles shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket and walked off.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Stiles didn’t hear from Peter as winter rolled through, though he was sure the wolf was still in DC.

 

Once it got warmer and the snow had melted, Peter came to Stiles again.

 

Stiles sighed as he approached Peter. “You need to stop hanging around here. A older guy waiting for a boy-“

 

“You’re nineteen.”

 

Stiles smirked wickedly. “Still suspicious.”

 

Peter huffed.

 

“And no, I’m not going hunting with you.”

 

“At least join me, I enjoy the company.”

 

Stiles laughed, he doubted it.

 

“I’ll prolong the kill this time.”

 

“Do you think I’d enjoy watching you slowly bleed a man dry?”

 

“No, not at first. I know you’re not as squeamish around blood as you used to be. Staring at crime scene photos must do that to you.”

 

Stiles scowled and Peter grinned. “I can do it somewhere that will leave no blood if it still makes you uncomfortable.”

 

Stiles hated to admit it, but that got him interested. “Where?”

 

That was the start of using the lakes.

 

Stiles had stood on the shore and watched Peter chase the widower towards the lake. Her shoes weren’t helping. Stiles felt odd about this one, too many women were killed by men for senseless reasons, but here was a lady killing men for money and selfish needs.

 

She came up to Stiles, snapping him from his thoughts by grabbing his shoulders.

 

On instinct, he shoved her off.

 

“Call the police! Help me!” Her makeup was streaming down her face. She could have been the same age as Stiles’s mom, if she were alive.

 

Stiles flinched, this lady would never go after his dad, he wasn’t her type.

 

Peter strolled up and the lady took off, rounding the edge of the lake.

 

She took off her shoes and tossed them at Peter’s head.

 

He ducked out of the way and kept following.

 

She took a misstep and twisted her ankle on uneven ground. She fell, Peter pulled her up. She struggled, trying to fight him off.

 

Peter stepped into the lake.

 

“What are you?” She kept struggling. “I never would have agreed-never would have come here on this date if-“

 

Of course Peter had made it easy to get close to her, but Stiles snarled. Something bubbled up inside him and he didn’t realize he was walking over till Peter chuckled.

 

“Here.” Peter had the lady in the water and reached out to drag Stiles closer.

 

Stiles tried to yank away, but Peter held onto him.

 

Peter took Stiles’s hand and slid it into the cold water. Peter put Stiles’s hand on the lady’s throat.

 

Stiles could feel her pulse hammering away, she grabbed his arm and dug her nails in. Stiles pulled back and walked out of the lake, shaken from his dark thoughts, his desire to see her die, and stood facing away from Peter.

 

Once it was over with, Peter came to Stiles’s side, eyes glancing at the half moon indents in Stiles’s arm, standing out clearly in the moon light and against his pale skin, his wet arm hair made an odd pattern against it.

 

“Now my pants are soaked, thanks asshole.” Stiles shivered and Peter pressed against him, scenting him.

 

“Were you angry at her? For trying to make me one of her victims?”

 

Stiles shuddered, repressing an insistent ‘yes’.

 

“Couldn’t stand the thought of losing me?” Peter smiled into Stiles’s hair.

 

“You’re mine.”

 

Peter tilted his head and Stiles pulled away, walking off.

 

He hadn’t meant to let that slip, hadn’t realized where that had come from.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Slowly Stiles’s dreams were filled with people he wanted to see Peter kill, people he imagined held under water and he could feel their breath fighting under his hands. Stiles knew it was wrong but it felt so _good_ to rid the world of these terrible people.

 

Summer came and Stiles was glad to leave DC and the darkness that had been growing in his heart behind. Or so he thought. Going home to Beacon Hills meant Peter came back too.

 

They didn’t see each other till the full moon.

 

Peter was in the Preserve and Stiles threw himself at Peter, angry. Peter tossed Stiles down. “Are you trying to get hurt?”

 

“You’re trying to make me into you, or like you, or something, but it’s not happening.”

 

“Why are you scared of embracing the darkness within you? Are you scared you’ll become like the nogitsune? You’ll be much more than that, no chaos to rule you, only a desire for death. Less violence but-“

 

Stiles got up and charged Peter.

 

Peter grabbed Stiles and threw him to the side. Peter paused, touching his chest, where his shirt was ripped and he was bleeding. His eyes flicked to Stiles’s hand where he clutched a knife, the blade flashed in the moon light, black with blood. Peter’s eyes glowed.

 

Stiles shook, not in fear, but something else. “Let me do this. We’ll be on equal footing then. I won’t fight you and I’ll even help you find victims.” His voice trembled, finally voicing thoughts he had had buried for some time, thoughts he knew Scott would never approve of, but Peter always encouraged. “If I’m going to embrace who I really am…” He spun the knife.

 

Peter took off his shirt and dropped it on the Preserve floor.

 

Stiles approached and pressed the knife to Peter’s throat, watched his breath catch as the blade dug in just enough.

 

Peter’s claws slid out and his lip curled in a snarl.

 

“Relax. I won’t kill you.” _Maybe_.

 

Peter realized that’s what Stiles was conveying and dropped his shoulders, his fangs vanished.

 

Stiles smiled, the dark reflected in his honey eyes. It was like staring into the eyes of a being from another world. Pale white skin with golden eyes and a wicked instrument in hand. Stiles stepped closer into Peter’s personal space and slid the knife down his chest as the wound on his throat began to heal. Stiles pressed the knife in and Peter grunted as it pierced his skin. Stiles took his time, slowly cutting Peter and watching the blood run and drip down. It flowed from his arms and off the tips of his fingers.

 

Peter shuddered as Stiles circled and started on his back.

 

“So much here for me to use.”

 

Peter swallowed with a click and bit his lip as the knife dug into his lower back.

 

“I should carve my initials here.”

 

“To make sure I belong to you?” Peter grinned. “I haven’t stopped you once sweetheart.” He groaned as the tip of the knife pulled and twisted.

 

Stiles stood, humming.

 

Peter didn’t move, not yet.

 

Stiles placed a hand on Peter’s wound and Peter hissed as Stiles ran the blood up his back, smearing it like finger paint. “Stay still,” Stiles whispered and reached into his pocket for his phone. He took a picture and circled back to Peter’s front. He stuck his bloody fingers in his mouth.

 

Peter bit back a whine, but his wolf was aroused by the sight.

 

Stiles smirked around his fingers. Once clean, he pulled them out and wiped his spit on Peter’s cheek, along his jaw.

 

Peter closed his eyes and his hands clenched, to control the wolf.

 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Stiles turned and walked off.

 

Peter moaned, half hard in his pants. He had let loose a lovely little monster.

 

Stiles had gotten a towel from the Jeep and dabbed at most of the blood, before driving Peter to his apartment and cleaning him with a washcloth. They hadn’t even gone on a hunt yet.

 

“We’re going to do this right” from Stiles was what eventually led to Peter chasing a stalker to the lake to drown him in DC.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“You’ve been awfully silent.” Peter was carrying Stiles now, bridal style.

 

“I was just thinking.”

 

“About the past?”

 

Stiles nodded.

 

“You’re hard sweetheart.”

 

Stiles glanced down. “So I am.” His eyes met Peter’s. “I can’t help it if I like you covered in your own blood.”

 

Peter snorted. “He got one good punch in, that’s all.”

 

“But that never happens.” Stiles tilted his head. “Did you do it on purpose? For me?”

 

Peter said nothing and set Stiles down, they were at the park entrance.

 

“It’s a good thing I have training to do at the academy after this year ends. It’d be a shame if we had to stop.”

 

Peter pulled Stiles against him for a kiss. “You’re terrible and I think I love you.”

 

Stiles blinked, surprised at Peter’s straightforwardness, then smiled. “You always have. Shame you can’t bite me now. I’d say yes.”

 

Peter smirked. “In that case, how about I take you back to your house and fuck you senseless?”

 

Stiles grinned. “Convenient that  my roommate’s off studying then, isn’t it?” Stiles took his clothes and got dressed, chilled a little from the water, but then climbed into the rented car Peter had.

 

They drove off and when Stiles woke the next morning to Peter around him, he reached back to trace the tattoo of his initials on Peter’s lower back.

 

That had been a “anniversary present”, to commemorate their killings together. Stiles had restrained Peter and used a mini blow torch to do it.

 

Peter was proud of it, despite the pain and swirling memories of the fire.

 

Stiles had cleaned the area and let Peter curl up with him, to ground himself again.

 

Peter stirred and nuzzled against Stiles.

 

“I bet you never thought it would turn out this way,” Stiles whispered, sure Peter was awake. “Hunter was tamed by his prey.”

 

“Not tamed, just…”

 

“Let me see your softer side?”

 

Peter huffed. “You’re a little monster.”

 

Stiles turned over to face Peter. “I’m your monster.”

 

Peter rolled his eyes, but kissed back when Stiles’s lips met his.

 

Stiles pulled back. “Next time we’re not waiting, if you get blood on you I fill fuck you right there.”

 

Peter groaned.

 

Stiles got up to shower and go to class.

 

Maybe Peter had been tamed a little. He wouldn’t take it back though. He was happy. It was just him and Stiles against the world, the way he had hoped it would be when he had first met the boy. It was everything he had hoped for and more. He smiled wickedly and rolled back under the covers.

**Author's Note:**

> tell me if I missed a tag  
> come poke me on tumblr I'm shipperfiendobssesser


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